


Bursting the Bubble

by markofthemoros



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blackmail, Electrocution, Epic Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Restraints, Revenge, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 21:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20298379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros
Summary: When Talion Hastings died the second time, he thought he had left the life of a mobster behind him. But past has the nasty habit of catching up with you. When Talion's old employers come back to collect, Talion receives a grim reminder of the price of a job poorly done in a drug cartel.





	Bursting the Bubble

**Author's Note:**

> Tiera Arla is my OC.  
Talion Hastings belongs to Sinikka_von_Wolperting.  
A whump drabble because we have been obsessing over these two lately and Talion is just the pwnsome-est!

"...and plus. It's overrated," Tiera concluded, spreading his hands in an and-that's-final manner. Talion wanted to change his mind about  _ Terminator _ , boy, was he welcome to try! Tiera wouldn't hold the flag up for him, though.

"Heh. Alright, buddy, if you say so." Talion grinned mischief at him. "But, just saying. The idea of a machine that looks like a man coming through time, just to prevent the certain time from ever happening...it does sound pretty neat to me."

"Plus. Reese kinda reminds me of you, mate. It's the…" he reached up above his head, raising up onto his toes until swaying a little and having to stomp back down before he would really lose his balance.

Tiera made a face, but the downward to the left eyes gave away him considering it.

"Not kidding, that trench coat and all might look damn good on you."

"Well, if I had to pick a favorite-- Tal?"

Talion didn't reply. His laxing features, widening eyes were on the ground as his hand clasped instinctively on the sudden, stinging pain on his neck. His fingers dabbed on ridges and sharp edges; a disbelieving gasp slipped out as he understood what it was. He yanked it out, wide eyes looking lost as he held the dart out on his palm.

"Uh, uh…?"

Then, he lurched forward. The dart clattered to the asphalt as his hand instinctively tangled into his hair, a little by the ear, where the familiar flare of fire was already ebbing away. His knees, then side collided with the ground before it registered that he crumbled.

"Talion-- Hmmph?!" A hand came up from behind him, to settle over Tiera's nose and mouth, and he was brutally yanked back from his intention to kneel. Something wrapped tightly around his middle and grabbed his arm, and his back was slammed against a body. 

As he started to struggle for air, a slick voice said to his ear:

“Don’t bother. That stuff’s strong enough to knock out a horse under two minutes.”

Tiera only barely heard him. His heart thumped loudly in his ears as the demand for oxygen started to burn. His vision swam in and out of focus, darkness, haze again. Talion had gone very still on the ground. He tried to work around the hand but was held firmly in place. Fatigue weighed his limbs down; screeching in his head was fading away along with the pain in his chest. Tiera groaned softly into the hand as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and with a slight tremble, he went limp as he slipped into darkness.

* * *

This wasn’t the most glorious shithole. Probably wasn’t far from one, though. Nevertheless, getting out would be ideal, right about an hour ago.

‘Someone’s coming.’

Of course, they are.

Grunting, Talion tugged his arms again. Experimentally this time; he had little faith the bar pinning his wrists above his head had relented any since he had torn his skin bloody on it some forty, forty-five minutes prior. Still… 

He swallowed, his eyes shifting over to still listless Tiera. Sitting against the far wall; his hands were behind his back and head hung, but otherwise he seemed fine. 

“Tiera?” He tried louder. “Tiera?!!”

That seemed to break through a little at least. The other moaned, delirious, but Talion dared a grin. He had witnessed this enough times -God forbid- to know that Tiera was quick to draw back once the initial ice was broken.

“Hnn?”

Talion dared a snort. “Good morning, mate.” As Tiera raised his head, blinking, Talion flicked his hand around as a sloppy greeting A mistake, as the chafed skin rubbed against the sharp edge. He hissed lowly.

“...Tal?” Tiera’s voice was wheezy. “Heh. You ok? …Lemme tell you man, I've slept on better beds.”

Tiera shifted, pulled his heels close to his rear, instinctively shielding himself what little he could. Good, that was good. Whatever this was about, protecting what he could wouldn’t hurt his chances.

That was the problem, though. Goddammit, what the hell happened?!

It looked like they were about to find out. Talion settled against the brick as he counted lowly: “Three...two...one…”

The steps rounded the corner - and Talion’s face fell more on every single one. No. No, this wasn’t possible! It...it’s not possible! 

Pulse was growing restless. “Come on, not now…” Talion muttered into his own armpit.

Four of the men -biker jackets and leather gloves, shaved heads and probably no nonsense- spread out into a vague fan. It was so cliche that under other circumstances, Talion would have laughed. Now he chomped down the chuckle, though. Instead, as the two men stepped around the hench-fan, he cracked a wide grin.

“Federico! Makielee! Hey, what’s up, guys?!” Ignoring the sting, he made a little gun out of his fingers and pointed it at their general direction. In the corner of his eye he noted Tiera’s gaze exploring between them, but he made a point not to even glance. No need to draw attention to him - Talion had a disgusting feeling they would manage that well on their own.

Makielee cracked his knuckles; there was something eerily calm in the action, and Talion’s stomach dropped. They were up to something, and he had a hunch he wasn’t going to like it.

Federico pinned him with a glare. Then, he snorted, spreading his arms in a mock welcome. “Talion Hastings… You’re a difficult man to find. I have to tell you, when I heard it, haha, I almost couldn't believe it.” He broke an incredulous laugh and looked around, directing the words to his opinionless audience. “I was told this kid died! Years ago! In that crap-poor bust there with that other.”

Talion ignored the urge to swallow. “Well, that’s the suck side of dying, alright? You kinda fall out on old friends.”

“And yet here you are. Good as new. And didn’t swing by for old times’ sake?” 

One of the henchmen stepped up to Talion. Tal eyed him up and down sceptically, but focused to keep an eye contact with Federico. He could feel Pulse shifting and grit his teeth a little.

“You know how it just...breaks my heart when my people screw me over?”

The henchman grabbed a handful of his hair and forced his back straight, neck extended. Talion let out a guarded gasp-

“Don’t touch ‘em!”

Talion’s breath hitched, his eyes flying over instinctively. Tiera earned himself a few snarls of disdain - but Tiera wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were alarmed, mouth partially open in wariness, and his gaze was dead-set on...on something above him. Talion followed the stare, to the henchman twisting his neck.

Tiera’s brows furrowed, his tone dropped a few shades more severe. “Get. Your hands. Off him. If you want to keep them.”

That didn’t make sense, that sounded almost like a  _ warning _ , like a-

Oh.

Oh, Tiera, how he wished it worked like that.

“Tier...Tiera, that’s alright. It’s, it’s cool…” he hurried to try to turn the attention back to himself. This was slipping out of control far faster than was preferable.

That went unheeded. Tiera openly scowled as Makielee brought his hands to his waist and bent down to study the captive. Snorting, Makielee jerked his head, and one of the ape-men came to stand uncomfortably close. Tiera tried to scoot back from the invasion of his personal space but had no room to go. The guy gripped his chin, fat fingers digging into Tiera’s cheeks and forced his head to the side. Tiera winced as his neck was stretched to a side, then the other before the gangster made him face front, but didn’t let go.

“Hnh. What’s wrong with your face?”

“Tch. Yeah, what do you know, mate. That a birth defect. What’s your excuse?”

For a moment, the mobster just stared at him, looking like he was pondering if he had heard right. Then, he laughed a snorty chuckle. Makielee shook his head. “Ricky.”

Talion made a soft sound of alarm as the guy hit Tiera, hard.

“You’ve got a mouth, huh?” The same cataclysmic calm; the brute forced Tiera’s face back forth and hit him again, this time allowing him to slump to the side for a moment before he gripped his hair to pull him up. It seemed harder than it should have been; Tiera's eyes were out of focus, there were the beginnings of bruising and a few scrapes over his cheek and temple.

Panic seeped into Talion's tone. “It's ok, dude, it’s, its fine! Just…!” ‘Please, just stop talking!’

Trying to salvage this, Talion seeked out Federico. His stomach twisted into a knot - dammit, this would be so much easier if he were alone! “So, so what’s the occasion, boys?! What’s up?”

Federico dug a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. He struck a match off the brick and lit it. He seemed to be in no hurry, and the languidness only worked to rile Talion up more. That Ricky guy still held lightly struggling Tiera at place by his hair. The whole situation, everything about it was so highly explosive Talion was feeling like walking on eggshells just got upgraded. This was a minefield, and he was wearing iron boots.

“The occasion, huh?” Federico inhaled deeply of his smoke. “Why don’t I tell you a little story, Hastings.” As he talked, Makielee pulled Tiera up to his feet. “A story about what happens when someone fucks us over.”

Tiera gasped as his arms were grabbed roughly. The brute fumbled behind his back before his wrists were brought together in front of him. Throughout, panic crept into Tiera’s eyes, but struggling was futile as the cuffs were securely fastened, and Ricky pulled his hands above his head as he reached for--

Full-blown alarm written all over him now, Talion tugged against the bar restraining him. “What are you doing?”

Federico’s cold gaze held no mercy. “Once upon a time, Hastings, there was trust between us.”

Ricky clasped the handcuffs’ chain through a hook.

“What are you doing?!”

Someone cut Tiera’s shirt off. It pooled by his feet on the floor.

“We’d give you a job, you’d get that done. Simple dealings. Hell, we didn’t care much how you did it. Clean work, you always had the gusto for it…”

“Come on, man. He’s not a part of this. This is between the three of us, mate!”

Federico flashed a snarl. “You’re damn right, it is between the three of us. And as it is now, the ‘it’ would be  _ that guy _ .”

Talion’s eyes snapped back to the side at a blood-curdling scream ripping out from Tiera’s throat. His head thrown to the back, his whole body shook from the merciless currents tearing through him like wasps buzzing underneath his skin.

“Tiera!! You...fucking let him go! He isn’t a part of this!” Talion’s lips pulled into a snarl as deeper tones of blue and brown seemed to dance in his eyes. “The hell do you want?!”

Tiera slumped forth, to hang from his wrists like a grotesque ragdoll when the electricity dissipated. Federico hadn’t even blinked at his screams.

“What I want, Hastings, is the money you owe me.”

“The- the what?! Fred, it’s four yea-!”

“Fourteen thousand quid. Every penny. Or we’ll rip it off your friend’s back back there.”

“But I don’t  _ have  _ money! I, I left all this stuff behind me, I barely get to eat!”

Federico’s expression hardened. “Well, that’s just damn pity, isn’t it?”

As if by a macabre cue, Tiera’s thrashing started anew as the stun gun was jammed back against his unprotected ribs. His scream caught up; Tiera choked, his face frozen in a voiceless, agonized sound that couldn’t get out. This time when it ended, Tiera was left panting loudly: shaky, wheezing breaths that couldn’t possibly carry enough air.

Talion had to bite his cheek to hold back the water that threatened to well up in his eyes. Tiera’s screams, every single tremor of his lanky figure...dark aroma crept up his throat. The urge to retaliate bubbled up his spine and down his limbs. The hand gripped his hair tighter, as if the man had sensed a shift in his demeanor.

Federico didn’t look impressed. His eyes narrowing dangerously, he crouched down, at eye level with Talion. “Here’s how it’s gonna go, kid. You get me my money, and you can have your happily ever after.” He held a meaningful pause - during which, as intended, Talion’s head ran through a good few dozen options as for how this could go wrong worse!   
  


“Or what, you kill us?”

“Nah. Just him.” Talion’s heart stopped. “You I’ll throw to the dogs and when they’re done with you, we’ll see if you’ll be able to ace that death trick again.”

“You always liked dogs, Hastings.”

Before Talion’s panic-struck brain scrambled up an answer, much less formulated it into anything that wouldn’t come out just as a whimper - it was thin and raspy, hoarse from screaming but still, definitely laughter.

“Yo! Tal! Gh-! Gotta say, man, your friends are great! You...forgot to introduce us, man!"

Federico shot and incredulous look at the beaten man, then back to Talion. He flicked his hand over his shoulder in an explain-me-this manner.

‘Goddammit, Tiera, please! For once in your life,  _ please _ , just- be quiet!’

That missed its mark by a few football fields at least as Tiera forced a chuckle. Looking at the guy, Ricky, Tiera smirked - no matter that it took effort to focus his wavering gaze on the man’s face. “Hey. Next time...be sure to get it so good I chip my tooth, man? Chics dig that…”

Ricky’s bafflement switched for dark pleasure. “Got it, man.”

This time, when it started, Talion’s own voice all but drowned out under Tiera’s. Oh God, he hadn’t thought he had the strength to  _ make  _ a sound like that anymore! 

“No! Please! ...Stop it! I’ll do it! I’ll get you the money! Just, stop it!”

‘Talion.’

‘Shut up, Pulse!’

‘Look at him.’

Talion didn’t want to. He couldn’t not to. They must have extended the duration. Tiera was still shrieking. Still shaking. His movement was far less frantic, purely muscular tremors, he wasn’t conscious anymore to try to fight his way from the assault. When it eventually,  _ finally  _ ended - Tiera dropped so still that, for a few terrifying moments, Talion thought he wasn’t breathing.

“Please…” It left him before he realized he was speaking. “You’re killing him! ...I’ll do it. Just, stop it. I’ll, I’ll get you the money.”

Like sandpaper on cement, a gasp barely audible: “Tal...d-don’t…”

“Shut up!”

Talion winced as the fist collided with Tiera’s face. This time with a loud, sickening crack and a chuck, and with a gaspy groan, Tiera’s head fell forth. He didn’t raise it again, but the slow hacking sounds told Talion enough.

Seething, his panic making way to his rage, the shade of his eyes seemed suddenly somehow deeper. More focused. His breaths hissing in his teeth, Talion faced Federico. “So that’s how it’s gonna be? I’ll do this, and we’re even? You’ll let him go?”

“You really oughta be asking, what happens if you don’t bring me that money, kid.”

That wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. “Alright.” Talion tucked his chin to his chest, glaring bloody murder up at the man. “Alright. I’ll do it. I’ll get you sons of bitches your money, alright. And after that…”

‘After that, you guys…’

‘Are gonna be…’

‘SO, SO SORRY!!’

“After that, we’re through?”

Federico snorted. “Smart kid.” He rose up. “You have one week.” He turned to leave. “The other one comes with us.”

“What?! Where’re you-?”

“If I told you,” Federico twirled back to face him, walking backwards in a carefree manner, “where would the sportsmanship in that be?”

Talion’s teeth grit before he had time to voice what Pulse had just specifically told Federico to go do. Instead he managed: 

“What about me?”

Snorting, the man reached into his coat pocket. When he pulled out, he was dangling a small keyring and a single item in it. Behind him, two of the brutes had taken Tiera down from the hook and were already dragging him away. Makielee spared a smug glance behind him as he followed suit.

“Well, you’re a capably guy. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

He tossed the keyring to skid at a few paces from Talion before turning to stomp back to whence they came.

Talion’s jaw dropped as his eyes flew from the key to the retreating back. “Hey!”

“See you in a week, Hastings!” Federico waved his arm.

“Hey! Come back!”

‘You really want that?’

“Shut up.” He wasn’t in the mood for Pulse at the moment, not at all.

Lets see. The key was close by, at least. Perhaps he could reach it if he…

Struggling to maneuver his still drug-stiffened limbs, Talion hissed a sharp exhale as he worked his weight off his right leg, and carefully uncurled it from underneath himself. Dammit, what the hell had they even given to him? It was like trying to juggle soft ice cream. Talion’s weight shifted on his still bent leg, repeatedly agitating the already ruined wrists as he accidentally tugged his arms. But eventually he did manage to work his shoe off and reach for the keyring lying tantalizingly close. Aw, typical Fred-! The assholes would be long gone before he was done, and- 

And Tiera with them. 

Ah fuck!

He hissed at the sliver of pain racing across his skull.

‘Focus, Talion.’

Yeah… That could wait. At least, he had a week. To come up with a plan; to get these assholes what they wanted; to get there and rip them apart. Any which case, first he needed to get out of here.

“Aha!”

With a little yelp of victory, he squeezed the key between his toes. Then, carefully, he twisted on his spot again, to support himself as much as he could with his trapped leg as he carefully bend the precious cargo over his head. This was more difficult than he had thought. Shit…!

Talion breathed out a long overdue sigh of relief as his fingers clenched around the metal. The tingling on his face hinted that he had probably been getting color already, he had not dared to breathe for so long.

Not wasting a second, he began to work on the measly lock on his entrapment. Still, picking a lock one-handed and fundamentally backwards was a chore. Muttering impatiently, he worked as quickly as he could, half-voiced cusses dropping from his mouth at every slop or haste-faulted set-back.

After maybe fifteen minutes -sure felt like a fifty- the lock clicked promisingly, and Talion let out a little cackle as he yanked it off and sprung the beam off his abused flesh. Hissing at the sight, he cradled them to his chest, gripping each wrist with the other hand, as he just sat there and breathed for a while. Short, hasty inhales. Longer, rage-infused hissed out. After a few minutes, three or four deeper inhales, Talion got up.

He raised his head slowly, for the first time taking a good look around this place. An old press. The newspaper machine was still intact.

Those rolls would crush Federico’s head.

‘Talion.’ Pulse sounded calm. Eerily calm. Like a hound taking a whiff. 

“Yeah.”

‘Do you want to go after them?’

Oh how he wanted to go after them! Tiera wouldn’t like it -hell, Tiera better not be there when he would come to collect the dues- but he hadn’t  _ wanted  _ to go after anybody this hard since...

“No.”

“They’ll kill him on the spot if we make a move on them now. They know to expect it.”

“I think he’ll be safe - as long as they think he’ll get them their fourteen grand.”

‘What are you thinking?’

A satanic grin spread over his face. Showing teeth, Talion bowed his head a little. “How do you like bursting a bubble, buddy?”


End file.
